


Carbon Fiber

by ziegler



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Brigiva, Briva, Crushes, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Injury, MekaMechanic, Romance, finally hana song has a girlfriend, idk their ship name but i love them so much, implied Pharmercy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 19:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13910577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziegler/pseuds/ziegler
Summary: Brigitte knows better than anyone just how reckless Hana Song can be on the battlefield, thanks to a suspicious amount of reparations that have needed to be done on her Meka - but when a mission goes horribly awry, it forces both women to re-evaluate whether or not they can avoid the inevitable truth any longer - that the pair of them have fallen hopelessly in love.





	Carbon Fiber

Everybody has that one moment in life. Just one moment is all it takes – a moment where you are forced to re-evaluate everything that means anything to you.

Brigitte Lindholm knew she was about to experience that for the very first time.

“Han – D.va, come back! You’re not equipped to go back out there yet!”

 “You can’t stop me!” Hana shouted back with a determined, triumphant smile to the woman concerned for her life. The moment of re-evaluation was fast approaching; and Brigitte knew that she was powerless to stop it.

“This isn’t a game this time, Hana! Come back!”

“It’s _D.va_ on the battlefield, remember!” she shouted over the loud rattle of bullets, and the only thing that the wide, tired eyes of Brigitte Lindholm could do was follow the trail of the Meka’s fumes.

“Please, Hana!” she pleaded, and she half wished that she hadn’t said that.

As her gaze followed behind Hana’s surge forwards; her already battered Meka carrying her bruised body into enemy lines in the blizzard, Brigitte watched the flicker of emotion on the woman’s face before her as she turned around; and almost as though the universe was reading Brigitte’s dread, Hana was forced into the centre of a huge blast from one of Talon’s recovered omnic units.

“Han – _dammit_ , D.va!”

“Activating self-destruct!” Hana declared in a tone that suggested war, and; as she leapt out backwards, the Meka landed on the lap of the Siege Automaton Bastions; and as the Meka exploded, Brigitte wished with all of her heart that she could erase the cracking voice of Hana Song’s scream from her mind.

“ _Hana_!” she cried. Bits of shrapnel and burned metal flew through the air at an alarming pace. “Shit!”

“Brigitte, quickly! We need to recover her!” Reinhardt said urgently; his shield reverberating with ripples from the defence. Brigitte nodded frantically; her dark red hair sticking to her forehead from the beads of sweat that followed the anxiety, and rushed out into the snowy tundra of Ecopoint Antartica. “ _Quickly_!”

“I’m on it!”

Brigitte slid out from the shield that Reinhardt held; the crunch of snow floating upwards from the touch of her boots. Her mind was going a mile a minute, thinking of the ways the support units could help Hana’s injuries; herself, Angela’s support on the sidelines; and of course on a more defensive tact, her father was behind them all somewhere here, repairing his turret and throwing out extra armour when he could. Brigitte gripped to her flail so hard that if her gauntlets hadn’t been on, she knew her knuckles would be as white as a ghost.

Usually, they were a co-ordinated group. The attackers had gone on ahead with other supports, and for a large scale mission such as this – to stop Talon from infiltrating this place altogether, and sullying what little good memory Mei had of this place as it was – this should have, in theory, been the perfect mission. But things often never went to plan.

The snow fell. Hana Song now lay in the snow about five feet away from Brigitte, speckled with a dusting of snowflakes and spatters of her own blood. Her Meka was completely destroyed, hurled into a corner like a screwed up, burned ball of paper; busted up into small, smoking, black parts, which periodically felt as though they were dropping off into the snow with loud bangs. But because of Hana’s actions – of her explosive decision – all of the units were now wiped out. All besides one.

 _But all it takes is one_ , Brigitte thinks to herself. _All it takes is one good shot and that’s it._

“Damn it, Hana…!” Brigitte half-scolded to herself, as she saw the ruined mess in the distance. She shook her head anxiously as she approached Hana’s twitching body in the snow. “I’d want to spend time with you even _without_ the breaking of everything you have!”

Hana had often used a move that she had requested Brigitte keep building back in – the Self-Destruct for the Meka – and Brigitte had warned her again and _again_ about using it. Even as a last resort move, Brigitte had told her she was tentative.

She had always done her best to repair Hana’s Meka – or rather, D.va’s – and had always done her best to fully secure it. She wanted this woman to be safe, always, and Brigitte knew that she never slacked on her work when it came to engineering – but Hana Song was just a _little_ more important to her than everyone else right now.

The memories flooded back.

“Aw, Hana…I know you want to come back to keep seeing me here,” she remembered from a few days ago; the familiar steel of a wrench in her hand, engine oil unintentionally smeared across her freckles in patchy spots, and an uncontrollable smile on her face. “But really, programming a self-destruct into this thing is very dangerous! Are you sure you even need this?”

“For a start,” Hana had begun to protest, her arms folded, and a very matter of fact look on her face. Brigitte remembered that she looked particularly beautiful that day with her hair in a ponytail. “It’s not like I _want_ to keep coming here. All of the fumes in this place! Don’t you get headaches?”

“You know, for a girl who is so insistent on how much contempt you hold for this place, you sure do hang around here a lot.”

Hana attempted to restrain an embarrassed laugh, and failed miserably.

“Well, I still stand by what I said. I don’t _wanna_ be here all the time!”

“So you don’t want to see me?” Brigitte replied, and playfully stuck out her bottom lip. “Aww, that’s just mean, Hana!”

Hana blushed.

“Well…I mean…”

Hana flustered again, and Brigitte chuckled.

“Interesting!”

“Hey! A-anyway, I’m just saying! Look, even without your repairs, you can just patch me right back up, can’t you? On the field, I mean. We work together now, right?”

Brigitte remembered pausing as she worked. Hana’s glowing smile looked at her as she stood in the stream of light, pouring into the engine’s workroom; dust floating around her like an ethereal cloud.

“I can, but…”

Hana paused, and tilted her head to the side slightly.

“But…?”

“I…I really don’t want something bad to happen to you, Hana. Not to you.”

The two women paused with the unspoken words; and Brigitte knew she could feel something strong happening inside her for Hana Song, back then.

“Well, you _can_ just make me all better again, right?” Hana repeated, and she giggled. “Come on, Brigitte. Nothing’ll happen to us while we’re around. I’ll protect you, and you’ll protect me. Isn’t that how that sort of thing is supposed to work? We got this in the bag.”

_You can just make me all better again, right?_

The biting cold of reality smacked Brigitte hard in the face as she shifted out of her memories.

“Hana!” she called loudly over the howling winds. “Can you speak?!”

“Bri…Brigitte…” she called back weakly; and Brigitte gasped as she could see the wounds on her stomach. “Damn it…this is my fault!”

“Nope!” Brigitte quickly interrupted, and slipped her arms underneath Hana’s body as gently and hastily as she could manage. “No way. We’re not doing this now.”

Hana’s eyes brimmed with tears; and Brigitte knew instantly why.

“…I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t the wounds that littered her body. It wasn’t that her Meka was destroyed yet again.

“I know.”

It was because she felt as though she had lost.

Brigitte put up her shield to the last two Bastion units; pacing backwards as Reinhardt ran forwards, Angela hot on his heels, and his declaration of war booming through the empty science unit out here in the freezing cold.

“I’m not upset.” Hana insisted suddenly in Brigitte’s arms; her dark brown eyes watery with the tears that welled. Brigitte smiled down at the woman that lay nestled against her chest.

“…I know.”

 _Frustration_. Brigitte knew that instantly. Hana Song was not the crying type, unless she felt like she hadn’t done her best. Brigitte watched as her understanding of Hana’s emotions only furthered the brimming of her watery eyes; and Hana couldn’t help but let out a sob.

Brigitte instinctively kissed her forehead. She wanted to protect this woman more than anything – and this was already a woman that could protect herself with ease.

-

The arrival back in the ship was as chaotic as expected.

“Angela, please help her!” Brigitte pleaded, with Hana limply in her arms.

“I’ve got you,” Angela said calmly, with Hana being placed gently onto an operating table back in the Overwatch ship that had brought them here. “Hana, can you hear me?”

“Urgh, I feel like I’m gonna puke…” Hana stammered out, and Angela breathed a sigh of relief.

Brigitte did always hate the hospital atmosphere; sterile green curtains, the white lights that seemed to suck out your soul. And everything always seemed so much _worse_ beneath those lights, as though the naked eye were amplified. God, she hated them.

Hana’s twitching body was covered in wounds. Shrapnel stuck into an already torn bodysuit, accompanied by blood that had dripped from her nose onto her chest. Brigitte covered her mouth with her gauntlet-clad hand; her eyes closing in a futile attempt to stop the tears at seeing the person she loved so battered and bruised. She turned around to look away from Hana in embarrassment.

“No!” Hana said suddenly, and Brigitte turned around instantly.

“Hana?”

“Stay…” she asked, gently. “…Don’t go.”

Brigitte blinked, as Angela smiled at the two of them; and, slipping off her gauntlets, she gently took one of Hana’s hands in both of her own warmly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she stated firmly. “Not ever.”

“…Good. You better not.”

“I promise.”

Hana smiled weakly, before she grit her teeth again from the pain of the shrapnel; sharp and sticking out of her side.

“Eugh…this hurts like hell!”

“Are we alright to be in here without masks, doctor?” Torbjorn piped up. Reinhardt remained silent in the background; solemnly contemplating the battle scars that war always seemed to bring the ones he cared for.

“Yes, you should be. This isn’t surgery as such…or at least, not yet. If I need to operate on her, I’ll let you know. I have to go and get some more anaesthetic, though…too many injuries lately.”

“Is this going to scar?” Brigitte pleaded. Hana’s heavy eyes flickered in response.

Angela shook her head.

“No, it shouldn’t. I can regenerate the cells, but…I have to remove the shrapnel first. I’m going to grab the anaesthetic, so I’ll just be two ticks.”

Angela rushed out of the medical room; the breeze of a swung-open door momentarily blowing aside a strand of hair from Brigitte’s face; as she watched Hana Song lay on the operating table.

“Hana…” Brigitte mumbled with a cracked voice, and rubbed her hand over her chin anxiously.

And as she lay, Hana felt as though she couldn’t take her eyes off of the woman at her side.

The noble, Swedish knight that had always come to her rescue. She watched through blurry vision at the way her auburn hair fell against her pale skin; how her freckles reminded her of the scattered stars at night, and how damn lame she felt for thinking something like that. But Brigitte was someone that she knew she loved, loved so much that it made her heart _ache_ , and it always frustrated her even more to think that she might have let her down.

_What am I doing? I should just tell her how I feel already._

Her head felt heavy. Her chestnut brown eyes felt so tired.

_Am I dying?_

“I’ll wait outside,” Reinhardt mumbled to Torbjorn in the back, the heavy, emotional atmosphere too much for him to bear on top of the scars that littered the woman before him.

But despite everything – despite the ambience of the room around them, the heavy, solemn sensation of concern and sadness for an injured comrade – Brigitte and Hana were lost in their own world.

Their hands coiled together warmly. Protectively. Brigitte’s gentle touch always a welcome solace to Hana’s own. It felt as though their eyes were never going to break apart the gaze that lingered between them. The moment had definitely come where Brigitte was analysing just what meant the very most to her in life – and if she was prepared to make a move on changing that.

“…Brigitte…” Angela asked gently. “Could you wait with your father over there? I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Brigitte and Hana paused, before being snapped out of the gaze between the two of them. They hadn’t actually heard Angela return in the middle of everything.

“Ah! Yes!” Brigitte flustered. “I’m sorry, Angela!”

Hana smiled at the adorable infliction that Brigitte had when saying the “g” sound of Angela’s name. The blonde doctor smiled alongside her, too.

“It’s alright. Believe me, I can understand how you feel…” she began, and sighed wistfully, as she pulled on the plastic gloves over her slender hands. “Why, the amount of times I’ve had to do this with Fareeha is unbelievable. It never gets any easier to watch your l-”

Torbjorn cleared his throat loudly. Hana and Brigitte looked at him puzzled.

“Uh, to…to watch those you _care_ about go through this. War is an unforgiving beast, isn’t it?” Angela finished, as she coughed a little too. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Brigitte nodded as she slowly stood up; Hana’s hand not letting go of her own for as long as she could possibly manage.

“I’ll be right here,” Brigitte reassured. Hana smiled.

“I know.”

Angela smiled gently at the two of them; her own personal experience with the nature of this kind of incident glowering through.

“Ready? This might still be a little painful…”

“Come on, Dr. Ziegler. I’ve been through worse, right?” Hana stated bluntly, and Angela paused.

“…Alright. I’ll regenerate your cells after this.”

“I remember how it goes. Let’s just do it.”

Angela nodded, and promptly began working; her nimble fingers fast, and gently started removing the pieces of sharp metal from Hana’s side. Brigitte winced every time she heard the laboured, harsh cries of pain through grit teeth. Even though Hana was tough – that much was for certain – she knew that even the most hardened battle warrior couldn’t bear the sensation of sharp, slicing shrapnel being dragged out of them, no matter _how_ gently it was.

Torbjorn gently held Brigitte’s hand as they stood at the back of the room – which prompted a couple of tears to fall from his daughter’s eyes.

“Papa…” she said in surprise, looking at the man she knew well, stood at her side.

“She’ll be alright, Brigitte,” he said, in his usual, gruff voice. He gave her hand a warm squeeze. “You’ll see.”

Brigitte writhed with guilt inside.

“I know, papa, but…I wish I could have done more to help her.”

“You saved her, didn’t you?” He declared. “Sounds like you did a great deal, to me! And besides, she has to be alright. I still want to look under the hood of her Meka and find out what makes it tick.”

“Hey, that’s my job!”

Torbjorn laughed, and Brigitte couldn’t help but smile. He nodded at her.

“…She’ll be alright, Brigitte.”

Every moment felt like an hour, and every minute felt like a lifetime.

“On the last piece now, Hana…” Angela said; her eyes narrow with concentration.

“God, this hurts like hell!” Hana writhed.

With one final, echoing drop of metal that had fell against the metal tray next to her operating bed, Angela removed her surgical mask with a twang of elastic snapping against her fingers. The room breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Alright! All done.” Angela finished, and ran a hand through her blonde hair. “Time for cell regeneration, so I’ll be patching you up, as usual.”

Hana laughed weakly; panting from the pain she endured just seconds ago.

“I’m not surprised. I guess I really made a mess of that one, huh?”

“No, you didn’t.”

Angela and Hana turned to face the sudden tone of Brigitte; sitting in the corner on one of the small, metal seats, with her arms folded.

“Brigitte…” Hana said weakly.                

“You didn’t. You tried your best, you know!” Brigitte insisted, with animated arms. “You did what you could, and on top of that, we _won_ because of you! You’re amazing!”

All Hana found that she could do was smile warmly at the woman praising her.

“…Well, that’s true.” Hana lay back with an affectionate grin, her eyes glinting beneath the lights of the sterile room, and Brigitte couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Oh, Hana…”

“See?” Torbjorn piped up. “Told you she’d be alright. Her ego is still as intact as ever!”

“That’s what really matters, obviously.” Hana replied, and, as Reinhardt re-entered the room, a warm feeling of relief settled into everyone’s skin like a comfortable blanket.

And for now; with Hana enveloped in the warm light of Angela’s caduceus beam, the worst of the battle _was_ over.

Everybody was alright, and the victory was theirs to claim. Bits and pieces of old omnic remains lay strewn across the snow back in the Ecopoint; burning holes into the frost, and the soldier known as D.va had left her Meka in pieces for the benefit of others survival once again. No lives had been lost today, and Ecopoint Antartica had continued to be preserved as an Overwatch territory.

All in all, as far as wars could go, this was absolutely the best possible outcome.

With the departure of the others, Brigitte had offered to take Hana Song back to her dorm in the base that night. And they had lingered a little too long for it to just be considered ‘friendly’ on the welcome mat of her door.

Their hands wouldn’t remove themselves from one another for a long, long time; especially after the day that they had experienced.

Brigitte’s thumbs stroked Hana’s knuckles, and Hana felt as though she wanted to kiss Brigitte’s face all over; and considering that mostly everybody her age was either considered competition or just plainly irritating, that was quite the feat to her.

“…I don’t want to leave.” Brigitte blurted out in confession on her doorstep.

Hana bit her lip as she thought her reply.

  _I don’t want you to go, either._

“God, what kind of a day was this…” Brigitte stated. “I suppose I should let you get to sleep, hm? You must be exhausted. I’ll see you in the morning...okay?”

“Alright…” Hana said gently, knowing that no matter how much she wanted this moment to last forever, time waited for no-one. She nodded quickly. “O-Okay. Yeah, sure. Uh…”

“…Hm?”

“Sorry…sorry for, uh…” Hana grimaced, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry for breaking my Meka again. I guess I’ll have to be back in the workshop with you, huh?”

Hana rubbed at the back of her neck bashfully. Brigitte smiled, and then laughed a little.

“Of all of the things that had happened today, the _last_ thing I’m thinking about is that, you know.”

“I know, but…I put you through a lot today.”

Brigitte paused, Hana holding her hands warmly without a gaze in her eyes.

“You owe me big time for this one, Hana Song!” she replied playfully; and Hana couldn’t resist smiling as she gave Brigitte’s hands a squeeze.

“Yeah, yeah.” Hana replied, grinning. “…Night, Brigitte.”

“…Goodnight, Hana.”

Their hands finally fell apart, and; as Brigitte waved goodbye, Hana found herself standing at the open door a little longer than she had liked to admit.

“…Geez. That girl…”

Hana stood with her hands on her hips, back pressed to the door; shaking her head with closed eyes and a blush to follow.

“…she really is too sweet for her own good.”

Soon after the reluctant goodnights, and knowing that Brigitte would be back safe at her own dorm by now, Hana had decided that she couldn’t bear the after-sensations of a raucous blast alone.

“What do I do with myself now…?”

Her eyes caught sight of the game she knew so well; and felt instantly comforted by the familiarity of Starcraft.

She played for a long while, disguised underneath one of her unknown accounts. This wasn’t about glory or victory, not this time. She just wanted to do something familiar, something to take her mind off of everything. Something to take her mind off of _her_ , too.

“What am I even doing…” she mumbled to herself, leaning her head back; the edges of her long, brown hair tickling at the exposed skin of her back, “This is stupid.”

She rest her hands against the patch pressed to her cheek, and found that it wasn’t long before familiar thoughts entered her mind all over again.

It was always the same thoughts that came when she was alone. The intimacy she wanted, _craved_ even, from the lover she wanted to feel holding her around her waist. The strong arms that she wanted to always be nestled tightly in. And sure, she’d fooled around with girls before, but this? This sensation was something else altogether. Why was she so scared to admit it?

Her fingertips touched at her lips, imitating what she could only dream of being the sensation of Brigitte’s lips kissing against hers; daydreaming of Brigitte’s hands sliding up into the mess of her brown hair, the way that she wanted to press herself needily against her.

She knew Brigitte would be both the sweetest and most attentive lover, and that in itself always made Hana blush into her hands. The flowers, the dinner dates, the ways that they could spend their free time in more than just an engine oil slicked room.

Hana grumbled.

“Ugh! I bet she’s not even thinking about this kind of thing right now. Why am I?!” she scolded herself, and slammed her mouse down against her computer table. “I can’t concentrate like this!”

Little did she know, Brigitte _was_ doing the same thing back in her dormitory room – and making her own decision on how she was going to move things forward for the both of them.

Her head rest against the comfortable cushion of her pillow; the familiar purr of her cat sleeping at the edge of her bed. For all accounts, she should be relaxed. A cat purring, her loved one was safe, and she’d done a great job today; she should be exhausted enough to sleep.

She wasn’t. And instead, she was staring at the ceiling fan; twirling around in a hypnotic motion.

When _had_ this feeling started?

Her mind immediately flew to their first meeting, and with a chuckle, she realized that was probably when she really fell in love with Hana Song.

At first, Brigitte had just thought a rather unimpressed woman had come into her work room. She remembered everything; the sound of boots clicking against the cold concrete of the floor, the sudden smell of perfume mixed with engine fumes. It was an entirely unexpected arrival; and one that had definitely dropped a bomb on Brigitte’s head in itself.

“Hey. I heard we have a new mechanic,” The woman who had entered said dismissively, without even looking up once. She was smaller than Brigitte – which wasn’t uncommon, given that she was so tall in the first place – and Korean. She was just as cute as she was completely lost in thought. “Mind fixing up my Meka?”

Demanding, presumptuous and overly confident, Hana Song – D.va – had handed the Meka plans to Brigitte almost as though the mechanic herself was an afterthought, before she had actually looked up from the documents she was holding.

Brigitte remembered how it was almost like feeling the penny dropping.

This woman was meant to be _yours_ , the universe had said to her; and if only she had spoken the language back _then_ , maybe she would have made a move sooner.

Hana’s brown eyes widened, and Brigitte grinned at her with a bright, excited smile.

“Oh…” she said in awe.

“Uh…hi!” Brigitte had replied cheerfully.

She recognized this woman before her from the streams that she’d watched before, and Brigitte remembered feeling overwhelmed with joy at meeting not just somebody in her age bracket, but also somewhat of a celebrity.

“…Hello…” Hana replied, still surprised at how dumbfounded she felt. “Well, just so you know, I _don’t_ break my Meka usually. So don’t expect these kinds of visits often.”

“Alright.”

“And secondly, could you re-inforce it with carbon fibre? My wires keep frying!”

“Sure.”

“A…and…”

Brigitte chuckled, remembering how into the conversation Hana had gotten – and the pivotal statement of how she _didn’t_ break her Meka often swirling around in her mind. Brigitte knew exactly why she had been breaking her Meka, and so did D.va.

“Auuugh, this is stupid!” Brigitte grumbled beneath her duvet, and threw the blanket off of her much to the disapproval of her cat.

She clapped her hands together, as she leapt out of bed.

“Alright! I’m going to sort this out right now!”

She slipped on her boots as she ran out into her hallway; and she knew immediately what she had to do.

“I’m going right now…yeah!” she repeated to herself, and stormed off out of the door; rushing all the way down to Hana Song’s dorm; her boots softly clambering against the carpet beneath her soles.

It wasn’t long until she found herself hammering on the door loudly, praying that Hana hadn’t already gone to bed. _Please be awake_ , she thought. _Come on!_

“What the…?! Go away, it’s late!”

“It’s me, Hana!” a familiarly muffled voice called. “It’s Brigitte!”

“Brigitte?! What! I’m coming now, hold on!”

There was a long pause, before there was the sound of the pitter-patter against the wooden floorboards inside, and a door swinging open.

“You again?” Hana asked incredulously, shaking her head. “What are you doing h-”

Almost as quickly as the words came out of her mouth, she felt a warm sensation against her lips.

“Mm…!”

Hana felt her eyes flicker shut, and kiss back at her beloved Swedish knight who now had her lips pressed to her own.

“…Mm…”

The woman who had been on her mind since the first moment they met.

Their lips broke apart momentarily from the soft press of their kiss.

“Brigitte…!” Hana breathed in a dreamy shock. Brigitte gasped quietly, and placed her hand over her mouth.

“Ah!” she suddenly declared, and clasped at either side of her head. “I really did it!”

“You didn’t plan to do it?!” Hana said in a blushing outrage. Brigitte stammered; flustered, blushing, and completely intoxicated by the sensation that had just passed.

“No, of course I – well, I -!”

Hana shook her head vigorously; a startling shade of red flushed on her cheeks, and placed her hands on Brigitte’s tall frame.

“Oh, stop _talking_ , you dork!”

Hana wrapped her arms around Brigitte’s strong shoulders; pulling herself gently against her body, and Brigitte held her in her arms just as gently. It was such a vibrant sensation, bright and warm and perfectly necessary, like the sun. Brigitte breathlessly stammered in between the kisses, and she was soon welcomed by finding her lips covered again by the needy touch of the woman she loved.

At first, they found their kisses slightly rushed. A little sloppy, if anything, from the fluster and the embarrassment of kissing your crush for the first time; but after a few rhythmic, slow movements of each other’s lips, their kiss felt like soft silk against one another.

Brigitte’s nose dipped into the side of Hana’s cheek in their kiss; and Hana felt herself kissing back, with her arms wrapped around Brigitte’s neck. They were kissing with a pair of warm smiles and fast heartbeats; and here, stood on the porch of Hana Song’s dorm room, was where the rest of their lives were beginning.  

Their lips broke apart after what felt like a lifetime of a kiss; and with their foreheads resting against one another, the two women laughed; and Brigitte held her close. It felt as though her face was on fire; but it was definitely a comfort to see that the woman before her felt the very same.

“Geez…” Hana flustered.

“Hana…Don’t break your Meka anymore, alright?” Brigitte laughed shyly, as they were within mere centimetres of each other’s lips. “I don’t want to lose you ever, you know. Today was…”

And with a bright, lovestruck grin from the woman in question before her, Hana Song had pressed her finger to Brigitte’s lips, and before kissing her once more, said;

“…I’ll make sure you never know what it feels like to lose me.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed this, then i'm happy to say i just finished writing my first game as part of Noodletub Games - and it's out on Steam right now! it's called The Ghost of You. if you want to sink your teeth into a suspense-horror-love story about an entirely lesbian cast, then please check it out [here](https://noodletub.tumblr.com/post/181306988281/the-ghost-of-you-out-now-on-steam)! thank you so much! ♥


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